


Lavender and Bergamot

by Glass_Oceans



Series: The Ficlet Collection [12]
Category: Dredd (2012), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-09 10:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14713962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glass_Oceans/pseuds/Glass_Oceans
Summary: grooming/hair kink + Techienician





	Lavender and Bergamot

**Author's Note:**

> Content warnings: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hair Grooming

Matt screeched to a halt, his heart pounding a rapid tattoo in his chest. Barely five minutes ago, he’d come across a jumped up prick of an officer, red-faced and spittle flying from his lips as he screamed at Techie. His sweet, shy, Techie, whimpering as he curled away from the officer’s tirade. Matt had felt his fists clenching, the edges of his vision beginning to turn red as the officer turned away, laughing with his associates, but in that moment Techie had fled, and Matt knew he had to go after him. 

Matt ground his teeth at the thought of letting that asshole away without the beating he so richly deserved when he heard it; a low sniffle, echoed along the air ducts. Moving as quietly as he could so he could follow the noise, he edged along the crammed crawl space, until he found Techie curled up in a space that was barely big enough for him.  
Matt barked his knee as he tried to reach into Techie space, and at the noise Techie curled up tighter, pressing his knees into his eyes, this hands pulling tighter in his hair.  
“Techie, baby, it’s me,” he whispered, trying again to reach out. 

Techie stilled, and slowly lifted his head until Matt could see the edges of his red-rimmed eyes. 

“Hey,” he said with a soft smile.

The next moment Techie had launched himself at Matt, curling his deceptively strong limbs around him as tightly as he could, his sobbing renewed. Matt held him, stroking his hair, his back, any part of Techie that he could reach. He waited until Techie began to calm again, then untangled them enough that he could start to withdraw from the inter-wall space. Techie whimpered as Matt moved, curling his hands tight in Matt’s overalls, but didn’t say anything as Matt finally drew them free and pulled Matt into his arms. 

No-one interrupted them as he carried Techie back to their quarters, the few officers Matt glared at scurrying out of the way. Matt suspected that Techie fell asleep in his arms during the walk, for all that he stirred sluggishly once they were safely inside their quarters again. He allowed Matt to set him down on a stool without a murmur, head hanging listlessly while Matt fetched him a mug of water and a couple of supplies from their refresher. Matt wrapped Techie’s hands around the mug, not letting go until he had sipped at least half its contents, then sat behind him. 

From his pocket he took a simple wooden comb, and a small bottle of oil, scented with lavender and bergamot. It was ridiculous expensive to import on a technician’s salary, but it was worth it for the way he saw Techie sniff the air and visibly relax as he uncorked the bottle. Smoothing a little between his hands, Matt began to stroke Techie’s head, drawing the oil down his abused hair and scalp, petting him like Techie was his very own cat. 

Slowly, so slowly, Techie began to come to himself under the attention, his chin lifting a little, sipping his water without prompting. When all of Techie’s hair shimmered with the oil, Matt lifted the comb, wooden so it wouldn’t encourage static, and began to stroke though Techie’s hair, working at the places where he had tangled it in his panic. Matt lost track of time as he worked, simply concentrating of brushing each strand as smooth as it could be, then smoothing the comb all the way down from Techie’s scalp, listening to how he sighed into the contact. Matt only stopped when Techie leaned back against him, catching his hair between their bodies. 

“Thank you,” Techie murmured, soft as a mouse. 

“You’re welcome,” Matt replied, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.


End file.
